The night air was cold, sending shivers down the spine of an orange haired teenager. The result of the air whooshing past him was a shudder as a tan hand pulled a brown scarf with white stripes tighter around him and up above his nose to prevent any sickness that he could possibly get from the cold. Chocolate eyelashes brushed against his skin softly as he blinked, finding the temperature to be strange. After all, it was summer. It was supposed to be hot out, not cold—even if it was night.
A long sigh had passed through chapped, pale lips as he reached his destination. It was a small building on the outside, but once you were inside, it appeared to be the size of a castle. There was a faded, dark red door that Ichigo had used to enter like usual. He had been here before, to the club. He knew the owner, a Shinji Hirako. The two didn't necessarily get along, but they still considered each other friends, and because of that, Ichigo could come freely without having to pay the entrance fee. However, it also meant that Ichigo sometimes had to work as the bartender to pay for the drinks that he had also got for free there.
Today was no different. As soon as he walked in, he spotted the lanky blonde and sent a small wave to him, getting one in return. Looking around, he took in the size of the crowd. There had to be about fifty people in this one room, which was pretty much normally around here. Shaking his head, he turned to his left and zigzagged through the people until he reached the bar, nodding at the current bartender that went by the name of Rose. He was a pretty relaxed guy, with long wavy blonde hair. Ichigo was glad that it was him working rather than someone else, the two didn't talk but the environment was comfortable to be in.
Slipping through a dark blue door, he entered the changing room where he opened his locker and quickly changed clothes. His bartender uniform was simple, a pair of dark pants, and a black shirt. Walking through a different door, Ichigo found himself behind the bar table this time. Taking his half, he began to fill orders of numerous alcoholic requests, pouring the different colored liquids into clean, spotless glasses and giving them to the customers and taking the money that was given to him.
It had been at least three hours into his shift when he started to feel uncomfortable—which was strange considering that the environment that he and Rose had shared was always so relaxed, so carefree. But now, Ichigo's body tensed him, and his instincts told him to run. It felt like he was being watched—no, scratch that, he knew that he was being watched and it disturbed him. Thankfully though, the time came for his shift to be over. Going back he changed back into his clothes, a pair of dark, faded gray jeans, and a faded red shirt that had the number '15' written on his back.
Making sure that he had everything, which just meant his scarf, he closed his locker and headed out into the club once again, through the blue door. He stood there for a moment, feeling relaxed once again. Blinking, he took a seat at the bar on the end, motioning for Rose to come over to him.
"Hmm? What is it Ichigo?" The blonde questioned, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. "Is something bothering you? You normally don't like to talk."
"Did you feel as if someone was watching you earlier?" The ginger replied, a hand being raised to scratch at the back of his head. "It was a really weird feeling. I could have sworn that someone was watching me while I was working my shift."
A soft chuckle had passed through the other's lips. "No, no. I haven't felt like that. It's probably your nerves. You never did like being in such a large crowd."
Sighing, he nodded. "I guess it could be that… Well, I best head over to Shinji. I'll see you later, Rose." Pushing himself up from the red, round chair, the teen made his way through the crowd to get over to Shinji. However, a hand had appeared from behind the bodies of people dancing, grabbing a hold of Ichigo's wrist. Surprised by the action, Ichigo had tensed up.
"Oi. Where do ya think yer going, eh?" A deep voice questioned as the hand tightened its hold before it yanked Ichigo towards the owner. Stumbling over his feet, and the other dancers, he ended up falling into a large, hard chest. A chuckle had erupted above him, making the chest against him vibrate.
Pulling back, Ichigo stood up and found himself looking at a tall, blue haired male. "Is it any of your business?" He jerked his wrist free, a small glare coming from hazel hues. This must have been the person who was looking at me while I was working..
"Tch. How cute, yer playin' hard to get. What's yer name, ging'a?" A grin had carved its way onto his lips while he leaned forward slightly towards the other, as if he was trying to get a good look at him, or decided if he was edible.
Was it weird that Ichigo was strangely reminded of a cat? Not an indoor cat, but one of those large ones. Whatever it was, he couldn't place his finger on it. Instead, his eyes seemed to zoom in on the male's teeth. Damn, he had sharp canines. Wait—since when did I start examining people's teeth?
"It's none of your business, like anything else about me. Now get lost." With that, he turned around only to have the same hand a hold of his wrist once again, pulling him back against his chest, however it wasn't his front that collided with the muscular build, making his eyes widen.
The blue haired stranger had leaned down, his breath ghosting over the smaller male's skin. "I'll find out. All it takes is a lil' visit, which I'll make. Don't play hard t' get fo' long, it isn't fun playin' with food." With that, he chuckled before pulling away and leaving the stunned ginger in the middle of the dance floor.
What… Just happened?
Shaking his head quickly, Ichigo vanished the thoughts from his head—the memories even, and headed over to Shinji to tell him that he had finished work and he'd be back tomorrow.
"Hey, Ichigo!" The lanky blonde had called out in his cheerful voice, waving at his friend that had approached him, leaning against the railing on the upper level of the club. "Did you make any good tips?"
He hadn't even had time to stop and count the wad of money in his pocket, so he shrugged his shoulders. "I'll let you know tomorrow. Hey, do you know anyone that has blue hair? It's spiked messily, and has blue eyes?" He questioned, recalling the features of the other. He figured it was best to just give the two basics rather than spend five minutes going over the details of the male's face.
"Hmm? Blue, ya say? Actually.. Yeah. His name is Grimmjow." After a pause, the blonde had got into a description of Grimmjow. Not only did he talk about his physical features, but he had got into his personality and history. After ten minutes he had learned that Grimmjow had grown up in a home as an orphan, being the sixth child to be taking in by a man named Aizen Sosuke. Grimmjow had a temper, always looking for someone to fight. However, he did have a code, apparently, where he didn't act someone who was injured. How noble. Getting more into depth, Ichigo had also learned that he had been known for killing people in an animalistic way, and that he liked to get physical with people he assumed was touch. Also, on the list of history, he had learned that he wasn't just a murderer, but he had been involved in theft, and surprisingly, had worked at a garage.
The blue haired brute had also been put in jail a few years ago, and Aizen had managed to get him out by claiming that Grimmjow had been framed, and by paying. He now ran his own garage, and had good-behavior, according to the police. Over all, Shinji had concluded that he had gotten to know Grimmjow and the two become friends, like Ichigo and himself.
"So, Ichigo. Why did ya wanna know about Grimmjow?"
"Just curious," Ichigo replied to the question, giving another shrug of his shoulders. "Hey, I'll come back earlier tomorrow for work. I want to try and get some more money, putting it towards college." With that, he departed with a wave that was sent over his shoulder to the blonde.
As soon as he opened the door, he put on his scarf and paused for a moment. Please tell me that he had gone home... It was terrifying to think that this Grimmjow character could follow him home. After all, he was food to the male, apparently.
Brown orbs glanced around at his surroundings, making sure that there wasn't a spot of blue anywhere near him before he headed home—thoughts of the blue haired male had never left his mind.
I'll learn about you soon, m' prey. Soon.
